Don't Call Me Stupid
by MissBunburyHope
Summary: There's always been rivalry between Barton and Stark, but being called stupid finally pushes Stark over the edge.


**Author's Note... Me and my friend just made this yesterday for fun :D it's based on a conversation we had the other day and I decided to write it as a fanfic...just to see who'd win :P Enjoy :)**

"Stupid," mutters Barton under his breath.

"Stupid?" repeats Stark, leaning against the wall.

Barton turns from looking out the window to see Stark smirking at him. "Yeah, exactly what I said."

"You're calling the genius stupid?" questions Stark.

"Don't see you as much of a genius," admits Barton, not bothering to point out that the comment was not directed at him. "Just someone with a metal suit."

"Says Cupid over there," retorts Stark.

Barton raises his eyebrows as he lets out a laugh. "Challenging me Stark?"

"Maybe I am Barton," Stark replies steadily.

"I think I'll see you later then. Forest outside Manhattan. Around eight. I could use some stress relief," decides Barton, walking out of the room, leaving Stark with a small grin on his face.

Barton leans back confidently on a tree as he waits for Stark to arrive. He hears him coming, as Stark's suit is not the quietest, and loads his bow and points it towards the direction he's coming from.

"Couldn't resist your armour?" smiles Barton when Stark lands on the floor in front of him.

"It shoots lasers and lets me fly, why would I leave it behind?" answers Stark.

"It's only because you think my arrows aren't going to make it through the metal," Barton points out.

"Perhaps so," Stark sighs unconvincingly. "Remember though that I can fly away."

"You've said," Barton reasons. "But so can my arrows and I've got a good aim. I never miss."

"If they were to miss though and you suddenly ran out of arrows, what you do?" asks Stark.

"I can use a knife as well," Barton boasts, fingering the blade he keeps in his back pocket.

"And I am now terrified, you've found my weakness, small knives!" jokes Stark. "Shoot!"

"Fine, you've tempted me, I will," agrees Barton.

He releases the arrow that was loaded in his bow and jumps behind a tree as Stark curses but recovers enough to fire his own weapon back at Barton.

Barton dodges the laser and rolls behind a bush, hearing the tree beside him go up in flames.

The archer quickly notches another arrow in his bow, a grappling arrow this time, and sends it flying towards a high branch above his opponent's head.

He hears the 'thwack' of the arrow lodging itself in, and hears Stark say, "What happened to never missing Cupid?" tauntingly above him.

"I told you!" shouts Barton, picking a stray leaf off his uniform and straightening up, "I never miss."

He pushes a button on his bow, allowing the arrow to send him flying through the air as the rope contracts into his quiver yet again. He lands on the branch right above Stark's head and, giving himself the brief satisfaction of seeing the man's shocked face, he jumps off and lands on Stark's shoulders.

Completely taken aback by this attack, Stark plummets towards the ground. At the last minute, he pulls up and Barton jumps off, landing gracefully on two feet.

"Come on," taunts Barton, "fight me without that fancy flying machine of yours. See where it gets you!" Stark feels himself turn red with anger and presses a button on his suit. The suit quickly packs itself up into a compact package and flies off into the distance. "Let's go then, Legolas!" he challenges, beckoning Barton forward. He realises his mistake around four seconds in.

Barton is a trained assassin. He doesn't fight to be the winner. He fights to kill. And now was not Stark's time to die.

After five minutes of furious fighting, in which both men became bruised in more places than they knew they could be bruised, they are flung apart by some unseen force. After a few moments, they move from the place they fell and slowly massage they're battered heads as they look up.

Into the clearing where they stood, strides Thor, his cloak moving in the windless night behind him. He sees the two staring at him and smiles. "Puny humans with their petty quarrels."

Barton and Stark both roll their eyes, neither mentioning that he is often part of the quarrels.

Thor still smiles at them, regarding them as some kind of interesting animal, and then flies off into the night sky.

Stark and Barton looked at each other, bewildered for a moment, before brushing off the strange happenings and calling it a draw.

"Thanks Stark," mutters Barton, collecting up his arrows.

"No problem Legolas," he says, surveying his friend with a new found respect, and affection. "How about we get some shawarma then?"

Barton groans and shakes his head as Stark throws an arm around his shoulders and drags him back towards the city.


End file.
